Sometimes When It Rains
by Calim1
Summary: Grissom remembering all the firsts – One-Shot – (Character death mentioned) - For the CSIFO May-June Episode Title Challenge


_Howdy! Happy 4th of July to everyone in the US. Hope you are ending this evening with all of your fingers._

 _For all of you who follow my "Blink of an Eye" (I know I've promised this before), but I have 4 months off from my writing workshop and I plan to dive back into it._

 _This one-shot is written for the CSIFO May-June FanFiction Episode Title Challenge - Minimum: 5, Maximum: 20. All of the titles are underlined. I hope you enjoy it._

 _Onward ~_

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 **Sometimes When It Rains ….**

by Susan Dietz (Calim1 or Calim11)  
Rating: T / PG-13  
Category: GG/AU/DRAMA  
Summary: Grissom remembering all the firsts – One-Shot – (Character death mentioned) - For the CSIFO May-June Episode Title Challenge (titles underlined)

 _© July 2016_

 _Feedback is appreciated_

 _Disclaimer: The characters and general situations in this story are the property of CBS and Jerry Bruckheimer, however I reserve the rights to the specific details. It is not my intention to infringe upon their rights; this story is purely for the enjoyment of fans. Please do not redistribute in any form_

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Sometimes when it rains I remember all the firsts that came before, all the moments I keep sheltered like ghosts of the past. It could be because that was the type of weather on display when I first saw Sara or perhaps the sound of the rain pelting against the roof and windows just soothes me. I relax more as the pains in my body eases and I forget for a time how old I am and open the doors to those memories that are for me alone. I can escape there to a place where clarity finds me again. I can never hold them for long but cherish each time they appear.

They are different every time and move through the days of my life. Sometimes they are from my childhood; other times they are my work life. But, more often than not, they are the times I hold most precious. They are not all pleasant but I must move through all of them to get to the others and do so willingly.

Today is a good day. The rain is coming down steady and it makes me smile because I feel that my most treasured memories will find me today.

I close my eyes and begin.

The first time I saw Sara, with bright eyes and flashing smile, took my breath away. The first time we kissed, her lips so soft, leaving me helpless and unable to think of anything else. The first to the last time we made love, her soft skin beneath my touch, her sighs and moans that were just for me. Then comes the awful knowing that I can do nothing to stop her death but, instead, can only suffer through the saddest joy of holding our sweet Jane as I cry for my loss. Just a few hours old and already daddy's little girl, her tiny hand wrapped around one of my fingers that first day and I knew then that she would be the center of my world.

The months and years move forward and I celebrate her first smile, laugh, steps (with Hank's help), filming all of it and sending it to everyone. Her first cold, which terrified me when she couldn't breathe, and Catherine coming to the rescue with a humidifier. Her first walk in the rain, jumping in all the puddles. When I heard her cry in the middle of the night and rushed to her side to soothe away whatever had scared her. The time we saw shooting stars and the look of awe upon her face.

The two's weren't as bad as most people say but there was a moment when she crossed her arms and said an emphatic 'NO'. That surprised me then made me laugh. Most everything she did surprised me. I was witnessing life learning something new each day. It was a humbling experience, something I never wanted to forget.

Then butterflies abound and I can hear her giggle as she hands wild flowers to me. I have them still, pressed in a small poetry book now tucked away inside a wooden box that I keep out where I can see it. When she delighted over a ladybug landing on her finger and took great interest in my tarantula, Jim asked me why I was smiling. 'She likes bugs,' was all I said and they all seemed to understand.

The days and years pass and I watch her grow. There was the first day of school when I waited outside her room in case she needed to come home. When I dried her tears and held her close when she fell off her bike and scraped up her knee. The day she hit her first home run and I cheered like a crazy man from the stands. I listened to her worries, helped her with her studies, stared down any boys who looked her way and watched her graduate from High School at the top of her class. Any college would take her and she chose Princeton. My heart broke that she would be so far away but I had to let her go only to fly to her side when she wanted to come home a scant few months later. We talked and cried over mac and cheese and she chose to stay. I found myself accepting more seminars and talks on the East Coast during that time, Jim making sure I knew the best places to stay in New Jersey.

But my favorite day, the one that makes me tear up when the memories come, was the day she surprised me at her graduation. Firstly, she mentioned my crow's feet and looked worried. 'Burn out,' I'd said and declared I was taking a sabbatical. Secondly, Catherine was there, shrugging when I asked why. 'Janie asked me to come,' was her only response.

I puzzled then forgot about it when Janie and two others were asked to step up to the dais. I frowned when she kissed me on the cheek and told me to be patient. As she stood there, my tall young Janie, I was reminded of the first time I saw Sara, the first time I'd felt I'd just met someone so very different than anyone else. And then the University President spoke and my mouth dropped open.

"We are changing things up this year at the request of our next speaker. Normally, this particular salutation is presented at the end of our ceremony but, today, it will be at the beginning. I'd like to present this year's Valedictorian, Ms. Janie Grissom."

That smile, Sara's smile, was directed solely at me. I could barely see her since tears of joy flooded my eyes and I turned to look at Catherine.

"Another smarty pants in the family," she whispered.

That just made my smile grow wider.

I remember everything she said.

"Thank you for your kindness," Janie began. "I asked that my speech come first because I wanted to surprise my father and, knowing him, he would've figured it out long before it was my turn to speak. You see he's like that. Being a forensic entomologist and a Crime Scene Investigator for over 40 years where evidence is key, has made him ultra-aware of everything. It was a hardship trying to keep a secret from him when I was growing up so it became a game of sorts."

Laughs abounded and Catherine poked me with her elbow.

"That game turned into a fascination for me and led to my desire to become someone like him – a person that makes a difference. And isn't that what parents, or a single parent, are supposed to do? Provide an environment for their child to succeed? To make sure that they know it's alright to fail as long as they pick themselves up and try again? That's who my father is but, then, he's much more than that.

"When I was born, I lost my mother. Some would say that put me at a disadvantage. I disagree. While it robbed me of my chance to physically know my mother's touch, it did not rob me of knowing her and how much she loved me. And how do I know that? That's easy."

She paused and looked right at me.

"Because I have a father who, from my first day and every day thereafter, has made sure I knew that my mother's love for me was as strong as his."

And I had. From the first minute I was allowed to hold Janie after saying goodbye to Sara, I told her how her mother talked to her and told her about all the things they would do together; how she made an album and wrote a diary that would one day be hers. And I told her of Sara's infinite love that would never diminish whether she was there or not. By doing so, it helped me keep her in my thoughts as well.

"Others might say that not having a mother around would deny me the knowledge of what it is to be a woman. That, too, is something I disagree with for my father changed my diapers, learned how to do a French braid, dressed up as Tinkerbell to my Peter Pan, hosted sleepovers, introduced me to Doctor Who and Star Trek, made me toe the line, showed me the world and never, ever _let_ me win at any game we played. But he was also smart enough to introduce me to his friend and CSI colleague, Catherine Willows."

I looked at Catherine and she seemed surprised.

"Now there's a woman," Janie said with a smile. "She's tough as nails, beautiful, handy with a gun and a microscope and one of the best women I've ever known. She's a single mother and career woman who I've respected ever since I learned the definition of the word. She was there when 'female issues' arose and always made sure that I was aware, should I tell her something my father should know about, she wouldn't hesitate to tell him. She was my female influence, if such a thing is needed, and I'm thinking I turned out all right. I mean, look where I'm now standing. Look at what I've achieved with only one parent.

"Put together, all of this shows you that no matter where you come from or who your family is, you are now at a crossroads. You must take what the adults in your life have shown you, what your teachers and Professors have taught you, what you've learned by yourself, and make up your own mind as to how your life should move forward. Keep learning. Keep listening. Keep your mind open to new ideas and never forget your history. And, lastly, always remember that while you leave your schooling behind and venture out into the world, those that you hold most dear will be on the other end of the phone call; they will wipe your tears and celebrate your successes and never, ever stop loving you. Thanks, Dad. You will always be my everything."

Catherine shoved a Kleenex in my face and I didn't push it away. When Janie finally made it off the stage and rushed towards me, I hugged her for the longest time.

"Way to go, slugger," I said, my voice breaking a bit. She didn't mind and held me tighter.

Her homecoming was a sight to behold as all of her friends, along with Jim and the rest of the team, showed up to celebrate. She'd held herself with such grace and confidence up on that stage. I was so proud and mystified that, somehow, she'd managed to skip over the anti-social aspects of both myself and Sara and had turned into a bright, vivacious young woman. Thank goodness.

But all through the party she kept looking at me, then hovered by my side then sat me down once everyone had left to talk about my 'burn out'. It didn't take much for her to wheedle out of me that I was ill but I told her not to worry. I was too tough to die. She cried, I cried and we held onto each other for a long time.

I tried to keep working but, eventually, had to take medical leave then resign a few months later vowing to return as a consultant. We became homebodies while I fought against the enemy inside me. That lasted for well over a year. It was awful and, try as I might to get her to leave, to put her schooling to work or travel the world, Janie stayed by my side. I loved her even more.

During my illness, I took up writing in my journal again much like I had when she was born and when she was growing up then gone away to school. It kept me occupied as I bulldozed my way through treatment and came out the other side happy to be healthy once again and on the road to recovery. And during all that time, I'd finally managed to coax Janie to do what she'd been talking about - to take graduate courses, to continue learning. By the time I'd gotten my stamina back and was able to take consulting jobs and speak at seminars again, she'd gotten another degree. Smart as a whip, my child.

Shortly after I was introduced to Samuel Keegan Shaw, a guy I'd been hearing about for some time and, after meeting him, it dawned on me that I was about to be usurped by someone that would mean more to her than me. It hurt then it didn't when I saw how much they loved each other. Having tasted such an exquisite thing myself, I happily gave her away as the father of the bride, wrapped her in my arms then shook his hand reminding him that I still knew how to get rid of a body.

Turned out Sam is a great guy who treats Janie the way a husband should and they gave me a granddaughter a few years later. They'd told me they didn't want to know the sex and hadn't decided on a name. When they called me in, Janie smiled and handed me their newborn and quietly said 'meet your granddaughter … Sara'. I had to sit down. She was beautiful. Hazel eyes and a shock of brown hair greeted me along with a little grin. I was in love and was reminded so of the first time I saw Janie. She had my heart before I could even take a breath. The same had happened again.

Little Sara turned out to be a bright, precious child that I could spoil to my heart's content. And she loved bugs, finding them 'tacular' when a ladybug landed on her finger. Ah, she was an entomologist in the making and I plied her with bug toys and books. My first gift to her was a butterfly mobile for her crib. I was smitten and Janie and Sam made me their primary babysitter. It was a perfect time.

My life settled after that. I still consulted, worked with bugs, solved a case or two and wrote many books. I continued to write in my journal and even started another career when I was approached by Hollywood to be a 'go to' technical advisor on all things CSI and bugs. I must admit it was a real thrill to see my name in the credits. My old team went on to great things and I celebrated their marriages and children with them. It seems I'm the non-familial uncle to all of them. That, too, surprisingly is a joy.

Sam asked me once why I'd never remarried. All I had to say to him was if he lost the love of his life any woman after that would pale in comparison and both of you would suffer for it. He looked at me a moment then nodded and I could see he understood what I meant. Right then I knew that I'd done all the right things where Janie was concerned.

My Sara would be so proud of me. I thought of her often throughout the years but more so after little Sara was born for I could see her in our granddaughter. The way she smirked and giggled and didn't let me get away with anything. It was a sweet reminder yet sad as well.

By the time little Sara was 8 I was starting to forget things, little things at first. It bothered me that my renowned brain was failing but what could I do? It happens to all of us. When Sara was 12, Janie insisted I move in. I did so gladly. By then we'd lost Jim. But that was okay because he'd been sick a long while. My health was good. My only problem was my memory.

But now it's six years later and little Sara is about to celebrate her 18th birthday.

My bowed legs finally gave out and I'm in a wheelchair. I'm still at Janie's house but have a live in nurse to help with my needs. Nick and his family visit whenever they can and Greg stops by when he's not on a book tour. Catherine sends videos and Emails about Lindsey's rise through the ranks of CSI. She will be Sheriff one day. And despite my losses – Sara, Warrick – I've had a great life, have a great family and wonderful friends. But I don't like the times in-between the rain when I'm lost even to myself. And while I'd hoped to be here forever to watch little Sara grow, I guess I'll have to leave my immortality to others.

So, I'd like this to be my last time to remember all the firsts because I want it to be fresh in my mind's eye when next I open my eyes and see my Sara holding out her hand to me. I know I'll smile and probably cry then regale her with all that's passed and how much I've missed her. Then the both of us can sit and watch what happens next with our daughter and granddaughter and her children after that.

And no longer will I have to wait for the rain to come to revisit all these times and those to come. Then I'll be whole again, sitting next to my love, watching Janie and little Sara's lives unfold.

I can't wait.

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 _There you go. It pained me so to write about the end of Grissom's life but at least I know he'll be with Sara again._

 _Hope you liked this. Please review 'cause you know how I love them. Happy July 4th for those of you in the US. Thanks for reading!_


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